The Spirit Of Robin Is Stronger Than Fear


    By Mayor Shelly Strout


    Robin Daily News


    October 29th, 1998


    I''ll be blunt. People are scared. I''ve heard the whispers at town council meetings and seen the worried looks at school pickup. But canceling Pumpkin Fest isn''t the answer.


    Let''s talk facts. Henderson''s Hardware makes nearly 20% of its yearly income during festival weekend. Our hotels are booked solid. Restaurant owners have ordered extra supplies. The pumpkin growers have harvested their crops.


    This isn''t just about traditions. It''s about livelihoods.


    Chief Harris assured me yesterday that his department is ready. Extra patrols are scheduled. Emergency plans are in place. We''re taking sensible precautions without giving in to panic.


    Yes, we''re all shaken by what happened to that college student. Tragedy strikes every community. But I refuse to let fear dictate how we respond.


    When thousands of carved pumpkins light up Main Street, they''ll remind us who we are. Resilient. Practical. Forward-looking.


    I wasn''t born in Robin, but I''ve made it my home. And I''ve learned that this town doesn''t run from challenges.


    I''ll be there Halloween night with my family. I expect to see yours too.


    Shelly Strout


    Mayor of Robin


    Chapter 11 ~ The Strange Boy In The Barn


    The morning after Dr. Brighton''s not-so-love affair, Lucy bumps into a love of her own. There is a freshman boy who lives across the quad from her. His name is Dustin and he is a soccer player from North Adams. He often sits behind Lucy in Dr. Brighton''s class. While Lucy thinks that most of the soccer players at Robin State are grade A douchebags, there is something different about Dustin.


    Like Lucy, he is quite smart and besides Lucy, he is often the one who contributes most in Dr. Brighton''s class. Unlike Lucy, he went to boarding school before coming to Robin. And while many may think that a kid going to boarding school is a bad thing, in New England, it is actually quite a good thing! You see, in New England, boarding school students are typically one of three things: rich, smart, or talented athletes – and often a combination of all three.


    While so many student athletes at Robin State want to focus on partying or drinking – Dustin is interested in Tolstoy and Russian history. He is always reading. During class, before class, after class – Dustin lugs around a big bag of books with him wherever he goes.


    That day in class, Dr. Brighton is running late and the students take their seats in the open classroom. Lucy sits in the front of the class, doodling on her notebook while she listens to her crush talk to a few other athletes sitting behind her.


    "This weekend is going to be wild!" says Marty, one of the baseball players and a member of the same fraternity as Dustin.


    "You''re coming to the party, right?" Dustin says as he fist-bumps his friend.


    "Hell yeah, man wouldn''t miss it – it''s at Alpha House, right?"


    "Yeah, man, come through, it''s gonna be crazy we''ve decked the whole house out like a slasher movie," Dustin laughs.


    Usually, Lucy doesn''t talk to jocks like Dustin. In fact, she''s never said anything to Dustin in her whole life except a few "heys" or "you dropped your pencil" or "any idea what Brighton meant by the last homework assignment?" But a little burning fire in Lucy''s chest makes her turn around to the group of boys.


    "Can I come?" Lucy asks.


    Dustin and his friends pause, sizing up little old Lucy Lemon with her bright red hair and her freckled skin. As soon as the words leave her mouth, she blushes a bright red. What is she thinking?


    "Uh, sure," Dustin says smiling. "Yeah. You can come."


    "But you have to wear a costume, or no entry!" Marty laughs.


    "Oh, okay, can I bring my friend, Otto?"


    "The gay kid?" Dustin asks.


    Lucy nods happily. Of course Otto wouldn''t want to go to a jock party, but Lucy knows she can persuade him. He is her best friend after all and isn''t that what best friends are for?


    "Um, sure. I guess," Dustin says. He shrugs his shoulders.


    Before Lucy can respond with a chippy "see you then" or a "can''t wait", Dr. Brighton barrels into the room looking tired and disheveled. Her usually dark long hair is pulled into a messy bun and her typically long flowing dresses are replaced with jeans and a tee shirt. Big bags form under her eyes. Lucy hasn''t been able to sleep lately but it looks like her new friend hasn''t slept at all.


    "Um, I hate to do this," Dr. Brighton says as she puts her large canvas bag on her desk. She then takes a seat on top of the desk, sitting criss-cross applesauce. Her students have seen her do this before when she was tired or she was about to tell them something important before a big exam. While Dr. Brighton is often quite proper, she can also be very casual. "I had a whole lecture prepared for you today but my heart just isn''t in it. I''m sorry. I''ve been going through a lot lately. This community has been going through a lot lately and I think it would be best if you all just focus on your homework for other classes or get started on next week''s reading assignments."


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The students all begin to chatter amongst themselves.


    "So, again, I apologize for two missed lectures but I think we all need to be very easy on ourselves right now. Please be kind to each other. If you feel something in your heart that is bothering you, a growing discomfort – do your best to push it out. If you find yourself getting angry or upset, center yourself. Shake it off. Remember that you are the only one in control of you. If you feel out of control, if you feel like you are not able to center yourself – please get help. It''s okay not to be okay."


    Silence falls over the classroom. Judging by the shake in her voice and the tears in her eyes, they can tell their teacher is very serious.


    "I am here for you all, no matter what happens and I want to help. I''m going to give you my home phone number because things are very strange right now and I care about each and every one of you. If you are experiencing something that you don''t understand, call me. Reach out. This is a safe place," says Dr. Brighton. She eases off the desk and writes her phone number up on the black board.


    "Don''t hesitate to call. I will help you as best as I can."


    ~


    Dr. Brighton has traveled across the world, following the strange and unusual. She''d usually hear about something in the newspaper or online that piqued her interest and there was a period in her life where she was often brought to various parts of the world, contracted by governments or big companies, to investigate the strife that was happening in their communities.


    In the late eighties, a building owner had brought her out to Los Angeles to examine tenant housing that the owner believed was causing the residents to go mad. After spending just one week in the apartment, Dr. Brighton had diagnosed the problem: a rampant demon infestation. While her client was satisfied that she could identify the problem, Dr. Brighton had no real solution. And that bothered her deeply.


    Just after getting her doctorate, Dr. Brighton was contacted by a woman in Madrid who believed that her husband had been possessed by the Devil himself. After spending just forty-eight hours in Spain''s capital Dr. Brighton could tell that the woman''s husband wasn''t possessed by the Devil, but another demon with a lust for sex that kept her husband irrationally craving the attention of other women. Dr. Brighton had no solutions, other than to refer them to a priest.


    It is the bane of her existence: Dr. Brighton can diagnose any demonic problem or infestation, but she is pretty piss poor at fixing the actual problem. She isn''t a priest – nor does she want to be. She isn''t an exorcist, though she believes in their credibility only a little bit. Most of the possessions that Dr. Brighton has witnessed are only temporarily solved by exorcists. It is often the case that the demon will return to that person and begin haunting them again, or, in most cases, they will die of "natural causes." So they say…


    Dr. Brighton worries that what is happening in Robin will be another unsolvable puzzle. That the infestation will rage on and on until the demons get bored and move along to a new pasture. That happens. A lot, quite frankly.


    You see, what is happening in Robin, it is the second time in Dr. Brighton''s life where the demonic and paranormal has invaded her life by force and without her consent. It is the second time where the demons found her, not the other way around.


    The first time, Dr. Brighton was a young girl living in the Hudson Valley in a small town called Beacon just south of Poughkeepsie. Her father was teaching at Vassar then and they moved into a small house across the street from the river. It was a big old white house with a big barn attached on the side that was covered in worn washed shingles. Beatrix was not happy leaving her friends in Brooklyn, but her father promised her that it was just for a short time. He needed to teach at a "better" school so he could have a chance at teaching at an Ivy.


    Beatrix was only ten but she understood. And while it was an adjustment at first it became easier when she made a friend. At the top of the old, wooden barn, there was a loft that looked down over the rest of the barn. One day when she was exploring her new home she stumbled on into the barn and found out that they weren''t the only ones who called 364 Breakneck Road their home. Up in the loft there was a young boy who looked to be about Beatrix''s age except he had bright yellow eyes and ghastly white skin.


    "You''re not supposed to be here!" young Beatrix called up to the boy who was sitting on the edge of the loft with his little legs hanging off the edge.


    "Neither are you!" the boy said. His teeth were yellow and they looked almost rotten.


    Beatrix didn''t quite know what to say to that. I mean, he was mostly right. Her father did tell her that she shouldn''t go off wandering alone and yet here she was talking to a strange boy.


    "Well, I live here," Beatrix said. "So this is my barn."


    "I live here too," said the boy.


    Beatrix was even more perplexed now and she decided to chalk it all up to a misunderstanding. When she told her father about the boy, he was rightfully concerned. That night her father grabbed the flashlight and walked with Beatrix out to the barn. The boy was sitting right where he was when she found him. The only problem was that her father couldn''t see him.


    "Beatrix, this is not funny," her father grumbled, shivering in the cold winter air.


    "I''m not joking, Dad he''s right there!" Beatrix yelled pointing at the young boy who was sitting in the loft. The boy smirked and grinned, he knew that her silly little father would never be able to see him. You see, Beatrix''s wild imagination was just wide enough and vulnerable enough for a little demon to slip right on in through the cracks to create just a little bit of mischief.


    Eventually, Beatrix learned to stop talking about the boy. It only brought her parents worry and eventually ended up winning her a one-way trip to intense psychotherapy. After the doctors determined that there was nothing wrong with her, and once she had dropped the story altogether, things returned to normal and Beatrix stayed far away from the barn.


    Until one day.


    One day when she was fifteen, she felt a heavy weight on her chest. A tugging at her heart and a feeling in the air. Something in her soul told her that she had to go back to the barn. That something was there waiting for her. Her parents were gone and she was home alone.


    She stepped out into the warm New York summer breeze and walked through the tall grass over to the barn. She slid the sliding door open, pushing the heavy door back with all her might. When she looked up – he was there. He hadn''t aged a day. He just sat on the edge of the loft, swinging his bare feet back and forth.


    "You''re not supposed to be here," he said.


    Beatrix shrugged. "I''m sorry I won''t bother you. But can I ask you a question that''s been bugging me for a while now?"


    The boy cocked his head and he nodded slowly.


    "What are you?" Beatrix asked.


    "I am none of your business," the boy said. Before Beatrix could open her mouth in protest, the boy disappeared into the darkness.